


Nobody Else

by sophinisba



Category: The Faculty (1998)
Genre: 1000-5000 Words, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-20
Updated: 2006-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey and Zeke in the nurse's office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody Else

Nurse Harper was missing from her office, Zeke wasn't surprised to find. It wasn't a problem for Zeke to pick the lock, or to find the supplies he needed and get Casey cleaned up. He doubted Harper would do any more for Casey if she were here, and she would take longer about it, would need to fill out forms and tell them about what a horrible day _she_ was having before she even got around to looking at him. Still, it pissed him off that she was gone. What if Zeke hadn't been there? Nobody else ever bothered to take care of Casey. What if he'd had to drag himself from the locker room to the nurse's office alone and then sit outside the door, waiting for help? One of these days the freak would pass out from head trauma or blood loss or plain old despair, and nobody would even notice.

"Don't touch that," he snapped at Casey, who had gone straight to the mirror above the sink and was fingering the cut on his forehead.

"Is it gonna show?"

"It'll look worse if you get it infected, so hands off. Let me get it."

Zeke had a washcloth wet already and got started right away cleaning the cut with soap and water, him and Casey both standing by the sink. They were standing closer together than they were used to and Zeke noticed with annoyance that the closeness made Casey twitchy. This ought to be easy enough to take care of, only Casey kept trying to take over for him, and Zeke started to get impatient. Impatient and annoyed, until he was violently shoving Casey's hands out of the way and for two seconds Casey struggled, and they were fighting, and then Casey gave up. Of course. Gave up so suddenly that Zeke didn't have time to tamp down his own force, and ended up shoving Casey back, away from the sink and toward that low bed, with the green vinyl covering. It hit the back of Casey's knees and he feel back, caught himself on the cot with one arm and one elbow but still ended up on his back; splayed, awkward, vulnerable.

"Jesus, Casey, you -- "

But there was too much to put into words, and nothing would come out anyway as long as Zeke kept seeing him like that, and Casey kept staring back at him, while a trickle of blood from the cut made its way toward one of those impossible eyes. And why did he still look so terrified, when Zeke was the only person in the fucking school who even bothered to see him lying there on the floor, let alone bring him here and take care of him? Zeke hunched his shoulders to hide a shiver, and turned around to grab the things he'd already taken out of the fridge and the open supply cabinet.

"Here," he said, handing Casey a clean cotton bandage. "Put pressure on the cut. And sit up, it'll slow the bleeding." He set the icepack down on the bed. "That's for your cheek, not the cut, yeah?" And turned away again.

The medicine cabinet was supposed to be locked, but he didn't have to pick this one because he knew Harper kept the key in the top drawer of her desk. Pathetic. Zeke found the Neosporin right away. And since he was here and it was easy, he pocketed a package of Sudafed (there were six, it wouldn't be missed) and glanced at the prescription medications on the second shelf; Harper's personal stash was mixed in with the students', all neatly labeled, some names of people he knew, some of people he didn't. Actually most of these meds had been here on his last visit, and most of them weren't useful to him. Still, he took a few pills each from a few different bottles, careful to notice the look and remember the name of each, so he could label them when he got home. It took him a little while, which was fine.

When he turned around Casey was slouching up with his back against the wall, feet up on the cot, one hand hugging his knees while the other held the bandage to his head. He hadn't bothered with the icepack.

"What are you doing?"

Zeke ignored him. "I said sit up, Casey, not go into fetal position. Don't make me climb up on top of you, for god's sake."

Casey glared at him but almost immediately moved to comply, uncurling and scooting forward to let his feet come down on the floor.

"That's more like it," said Zeke. "There's swelling on you cheek already, but you can put the ice on it after we take care of this. Has the bleeding stopped? Let me see."

Casey carefully pulled the bandage away. It didn't stick, and it wasn't bleeding.

"So one thing today went the way it was supposed to, anyway," said Zeke. "Don't move and don't talk for a minute, this is gonna hurt." Casey was very still as Zeke wiped away the blood again, and only hissed a little when he used the antibiotic. He didn't flinch, didn't try to move away, and didn't complain.

"Not such a wimp after all, are you?" Zeke said, smiling.

Casey didn't answer but he scowled, and Zeke felt the crease in Casey's forehead, even through the cloth to his fingers.

"I said don't move, didn't I?"

"If you don't want me to talk then stop asking me questions," said Casey.

"They were rhetorical," said Zeke. "But whatever, take care of it yourself. Here, stand up, you can do it in the mirror."

He gave Casey the new bandage and the adhesive tape, and watched the frown deepen and listened for the grumbling, which didn't actually come. Casey got up, went to the mirror, and applied the thing without too much hassle. Only when he was finished did he say, "And do you expect me to wear this all day? Do you have any idea how stupid this looks?"

"If I were you I wouldn't worry so much about what it'll look like," said Zeke. "I'd try to keep it from happening in the first place."

Casey laughed, still frowning. "Words of wisdom from somebody they'd never touch."

"Because I don't make it easy for them, Casey.

"Oh, come on, you could be captain of the football team if you wanted. Or you could be valedictorian this year, if you'd bother to turn in a few assignments. That stuff's easy for you, everything is."

Zeke wasn't sure what to say to that, so he kept quiet for once, and watched as Casey, after a last disgusted look in the mirror, turned around to face him again.

"We should probably go," he said. "I'm already late for calc and... Miss Harper could come back, right? Won't she be mad?"

Zeke shrugged. "You're not gonna learn any math today, and I don't think you want to walk in in the middle of a class like this, right?"

"Of course not."

"And as for Harper, she's caught me here before. We have an understanding."

"We're not allowed to be here, Zeke."

"Yeah, but she's not allowed to be away without a good excuse. She's also not allowed to work when she's as drugged up as she is most days. And she's not allowed to have sexual contact with students. Like I said, we have an understanding."

Casey stared down at him like he thought Zeke was an arrogant prick but still wasn't sure whether or not to believe him. Zeke decided to let it pass; his reputation did better when he didn't go into too many details.

"We'll just hang out here then, let you catch your breath, calm down a little. Come on, sit down." Casey sat down next to him. "Ice pack," Zeke ordered, and Casey picked it up, pressed it to swelling bruise on his cheek. Both of them sat up on the bed and leaned back against the wall, pretending to be comfortable. Zeke was intending to let the time pass in silence, but another thought came to him and he couldn't help asking, "You've come here before though, right? On you own, to get help from Harper?"

"Sometimes, yeah, especially when there are cuts that are bleeding more like this. Most of the time I just try to deal with it by myself."

"How come? It's her job, you know. She gets paid to be here when people get hurt."

"I'm not an idiot, you know."

Zeke knew. Or at least he knew that in class Casey _seemed_ to be smarter than anybody else (except for Zeke himself, but that was different). But then there was Casey in the hallways, on the football field, in the locker room. That Casey was an idiot. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I know what her job is, and I have my reasons for not coming crying to her every time I get hit."

_I have my reasons._ Fuck, no wonder some guys couldn't resist pounding his face in. It wasn't like Zeke was tempted or anything; he wasn't a guy who was ruled by his urges, but right now he could at least tell where that urge came from.

"That's not all she gets paid for, you know," Casey continued. "She's also supposed to let people know when something's wrong. Sometimes I can't get her to keep quiet, and she tells Principal Drake, and then Drake calls my parents, and its..." Humiliating, horrible, Zeke supposed, as Casey swallowed the words down along with the sob. Not that Zeke had much experience with overly concerned, interfering parents himself. Just what he gathered from other people's complaints.

"They should know," Zeke said, feeling startlingly reasonable, responsible, and old.

Casey shook his head, staring at the opposite wall. "Home isn't great, but home is where we pretend things are okay. I like it when all they hear from the school is that I get straight As, and the teachers all think I'm fucking delightful. We get ice cream when the report cards come, and they act like they're proud of me and we're a happy family. We don't talk about the other stuff. That would just make it worse."

Zeke looked at the bloody bandage by the sink, looked back at Casey's broken face. "How could it get worse than this, Case?"

Casey looked back at Zeke, surprised, and laughed. "Easy. Worse like my dad trying to teach me how to fight, and calling me a pansy when I won't hit him back. Worse like my mom saying maybe I should give 'counseling' a try. Or having them come here and try to talk to Drake or, god, try to talk to Mr. Willis about having better supervision in this place."

"Would that" -- it was hard to believe he was actually about to side with the parents, and yet -- "Would it really be so horrible? I mean, what if you did learn how to fight back?"

"You talk like that's easy."

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm not saying you need to be the new boxing champion of Herrington High or anything. Just, you know, don't smile at them when they come for you. Don't try to convince them you can all be friends and get along. Just hit somebody, just once, and see how it goes."

"Yeah," said Casey. "Whatever."

Casey was acting like the sullen teenager he was and the first words that came into Zeke's mind at that moment were _Don't "whatever" me, young man_, and he actually had to laugh at himself rather than say them out loud.

"Right, so it's funny to you now?"

"No, Casey, don't be so paranoid. _I'm_ funny to me now."

"What the fuck, Zeke?"

"Just lie down. Get some rest, will you?"

Zeke stood up and walked back to the medicine cabinet, looking for something to do with himself, but decided there wasn't anything else here that he needed. Anyway, part of his understanding with Harper included not taking too much of anything at one time, not being too blatant about it. He threw the used bandage and the extra tape in the garbage, cleaned up around the sink, pulled at the door handle of the fridge, restless.

When he looked back Casey was lying down but not relaxing in any sense of the word. He was still watching Zeke distrustfully and Zeke, who was not a creature ruled by his urges, had to resist the urge to cover him up with a blanket and kiss his forehead. Zeke sat down in the chair opposite the bed and shook his head, still laughing.

"What?" said Casey, starting to curl up again where he was lying on his side.

_Nobody else ever bothers to take care of Casey_, Zeke thought to himself again, but this time he also had to admit, _I don't bother to take care of anybody else. Nobody else makes me feel like this._

"Nothing," said Zeke, and realized he should probably let it go at that, but "I was just thinking about you, Casey, you're... different, I guess, from other kids here."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know."

Again the parent in Zeke wanted to tell Casey not to sulk, and Zeke smiled, though he did manage to keep from laughing. "You know I don't mean it like -- " but he didn't actually know what he meant. He thought for a minute, wondered how he could put this utterly irrational affection into words without freaking Casey out completely, then said, "Nobody else is gonna fight off the bad guys for you, Casey. You get that, right?"

Casey stared, swallowed, didn't answer.

"You can relax, okay? The office is still locked and I'm not gonna do anything to you. Nothing else is gonna happen to you today. I just want you to understand, nobody's gonna rescue you from those monsters. You have to fight them yourself."

"Okay, Zeke."

Yeah, Casey was definitely looking at him like he was some kind of alien now. At least he'd held off on the "whatever" this time.

Zeke decided to give it a rest. No use trying to impart life lessons to one weird kid, when he couldn't even say why he wanted to, and anyway he had enough work to do corrupting the rest of the school. Zeke shut his eyes and relaxed, ignoring the fact that it really wasn't a very comfortable chair. "Never mind," he said. "Don't listen to me. You'll figure it out on your own eventually."

Zeke kept his eyes closed, not bothering to check for the look on Casey's face. Yeah, Casey would think he was crazy, and would also think he was an arrogant prick, and he'd be pretty much right. But Zeke was right too, he felt absolutely certain of it and thrilled with the certainty, though he really had no idea why. He just knew: when the time came, Casey would figure it out for himself, and Casey would slay the monsters.

For now though, they were playing hooky, and that wasn't a bad thing either. Zeke leaned back in the uncomfortable chair and felt old, arrogant, protective, and somehow, inexplicably, content.


End file.
